


It'll Be Okay If You're Here

by PassibleLightning



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional, Eventual Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Everyone is tired, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Panic, Pining, Pining Martin Blackwood, Protective Martin Blackwood, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 4, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 5, Stress, Tired Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassibleLightning/pseuds/PassibleLightning
Summary: Jon and Martin have escaped to Scotland. But they still have their emotions to sort through. Too bad both of them think the other doesn't love them.Or... I cannot believe that was the first time Jon said I love you to Martin. So I wrote the first time he did.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 178





	It'll Be Okay If You're Here

**Author's Note:**

> Okay lots of notes on this one  
> 1) This is my first time writing for The Magnus Archives Fandom!  
> 2) This is my first time writing any romance what so ever!  
> 3) This is my first time writing one long fic like this!
> 
> Wow lots of firsts for me. 
> 
> Also... I don't know much British slang so apologizes in advance if I get some of it wrong.

It was a long way to Scotland. But Jon didn’t let go of Martin’s hand the whole way. He didn’t really even think about it. Martin’s hand in his was the only thing that gave Jon any strength. Without it, Jon might have simply disappeared. And Martin didn’t pull away. Jon would have understood if he did. The word  _ loved _ bounced painfully around Jon’s head.  _ LOVED.  _ Not Love. Not  _ in  _ love. Loved _.  _

Of course Jon had known how Martin had felt about him. He’d known for some time. Jon wasn’t sure for exactly how long he’d known; at some point it had been too obvious to ignore. Jon should have said something then. More than anything he regretted not dropping whatever statement he’d been reading, running to Martin, and kissing him right then and there. But the world always seemed to be ending in some way or another. And Jon was never good at talking about his emotions without the constant threat of danger. And then it was too late. Jon had died and Martin had drifted away. Even then he should have said something, perhaps it would have broken Peter Lukas’s spell, but in true Jon fashion, he still hadn’t said a word. 

Jon didn’t let go of Martin when they arrived at the safe house, even if it made bringing their suitcases in more cumbersome. It was dark when they arrived. Flicking on the lights revealed a small and cozy cottage. For a moment, Jon wasn’t sure if they were in the right place. Everything felt so un-Daisy like. There was a plush brown couch draped in fuzzy blankets and piled high with embroidered pillows. It was next to a large brick fireplace with wood stacked next to it. There was a kitchen to the right with a bright red tea kettle on the stove and a vase of dried flowers on a small circular table. Jon wished he could take the time to explore all of it. He wanted to look at all the books stacked haphazardly on a bookshelf. To see what images the worn picture frames on the walls held. But he was tired. More tired than he’d been in years. The bedrooms were upstairs. Jon wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it up all those stairs. But Marin gave his hand a little squeeze and Jon knew he could make it. Jon and Martin walked upstairs together, hands still held tightly. But they paused on the landing. There were two doors, opposite from each other. Both were open and inside each were rather large beds already made up. 

Jon felt his breath hitch slightly. More than anything he wanted to sleep with Martin in one of those beds; to pull Martin in close and fall asleep with him in his arms. He wanted Martin’s warmth. His own personal sunshine in the darkness. Jon wanted the last thing he heard before sleep to be Martin breathing.

Jon felt Martin tense next to him. Suddenly the dream was gone. 

_ LOVED _

The world swirled around Jon’s head. Of course Martin wouldn’t want to share a bed with him. Jon was lucky Martin had put up Jon’s cold clammy hand in Martin's warm one for so long.

“Well. Ah. Best be off to bed then. We’ve both had a long… a year?” Martin let out a weak laugh. 

“Yes. Sleep sounds wonderful.” Martin admitted. 

“Yes… ah… well then.” Jon wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do. But he had no intention of making Martin uncomfortable. Jon slipped his hand out of Martins. Martin starred slightly confused. 

“Well I better. And you better... “ Jon trailed off hopelessly. A look crossed Martin’s face. Jon couldn’t read it. The hopeful side of Jon thought the look might be mournful, or wistful. But Jon was sure he had imagined it. His own foolish heart confusing Martin’s lingering glances as something more. 

“Jon.” Martin said weakly. “I’m not sure…” Jon flushed a horrendous shade. 

“Of course you’re not. I’ve made things awkward haven’t I.” 

“ _ Jon _ .” Martin said, with a twinge of some unknown emotion. Jon reached out and grabbed Martin’s shoulder tentatively. 

“If you need anything. Please let me know. I’ll just be right in there.” Jon took a tentative step backwards. Martin opened his mouth as if to say something. But Jon suddenly lost whatever bit of nerve he’d managed to work up. He turned and hurried into his room. He closed the door with a click. Jon could hear Martin give a sigh. But Jon had already thrown himself on the bed. Weariness and longing dragged him almost instantly into sleep. 

oooOOOooo

Jon’s sleep was restless. Filled with swirling enemies he couldn’t see. He tried to call out. But all that came out was swirling mist. Jon tried to gather it up before his voice disappeared. As he failed to capture the elusive smoke another sound cut through. Weeping filled the air. The mist turned to rain and Jon thought he might drown in the sadness of it all.

Jon awoke with a start to the sound of muffled sobs. Martin. Jon was out of bed before he was fully awake. Jon stumbled blindly in the dark, not wanting to waste a second to flip on the lightswitch. Jon flung his door open and hurried into the hall. Martin’s door was slightly ajar. Jon froze for a moment, his hand on the door knob. 

_ LOVED.  _ The word echoed painfully in his head. 

Would Martin even want him there? Would Jon make things worse? Jon’s mind tumbled down into self doubt. But then, Martin made a wet, hiccuping sound and every other thought was drowned out. Without really thinking, Jon pushed the door open. By the dim light of the moon, Jon saw Martin crouched on the bed. He’d gathered up every blanket and had wrapped himself up tight. Jon couldn’t even see Martin’s face. Jon tiptoed to the edge of the bed and sat down. At the sudden shift in weight, Martin’s tears tapered off to a dull trickle. 

“Jon?” Martin’s voice trembled. 

“Yes. Are you… alright?” Jon asked lamely. The Martin shaped bundle nodded. 

“Oh yes I-” Martin cut himself off with another wave of tears. 

“Martin?” asked Jon, concerned. Jon reached a hand out and placed it on what he hoped was Martin’s knee; it was hard to tell with all the blankets. 

“I’m sorry.” mumbled Martin. 

“For what?” Jon asked as kindly as possible. 

“For waking you. I was trying to be quiet. You need your sleep.” 

“Martin, you know, if you  _ ever _ need me… for anything, you can always wake me up. I won’t mind.” Martins’ face peaked out from the blankets. 

“Oh Jon… no… that’s too kind. I’m... I’m just being foolish. I-I just had a nightmare. That’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Jon cursed himself. He should have known. The Lonely was barely out of Martin and Jon had just left him again. 

Jon scooted closer. 

“Well, I’m already up. Would it help to talk about it? Or would you like… I’m not sure… a hug?” Martin’s eyes widened. His face turned a shocking shade of pink. 

“I want to help, Martin. If I can.” 

“Just… stay?” Martin said, turning an ever deeper shade of red. “It helps to not be alone.” 

“Oh o-okay.” said Jon. Martin laid down on the bed. Jon clambered over to the other side and settled down. Martin detangled himself enough from the blanket nest to hand one to Jon. 

“Thank you.” said Jon. Martin gave him a weak smile. They laid like that for some time, facing each other, with room enough for several pillows between them. Jon was too scared to move any closer. But Martin reached a hand out across the divide. He let it fall open and Jon took it. Martin signed and all the tension seemed to leave the room.

Jon smiled to himself as Martin’s breathing finally evened out and the two drifted into peaceful sleep. 

oooOOOooo

Jon awoke feeling more rested than he had in years. There was a warmth surrounding him, making Jon feel cozier. The heat seemed to be coming from behind Jon. Jon looked over his shoulder. Martin was pressed up against his back. Sometime in the night the two had rolled into each other; with their ankles tangled together. Jon felt his face flush. Carefully, Jon untangled himself from Martin and slid out of bed. Jon padded back to his room. 

Jon stood stock still in his room for a moment. There were too many thoughts racing through his mind, too many emotions bubbling up. 

Jon could still feel the warmth from Martin on his back. Kind, gentle, warm Martin. Jon felt his face flush more. 

Jon needed to do something, distract his mind. Jon threw on a robe, and headed down into the kitchen. Jon poked his head into the cupboards and fridge. Jon frowned. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. No one had been here for a while. But he’d been hoping for more than an old can of beans and moth eaten tea bags. 

“Jon?” Jon jumped at his name. Jon turned as Martin shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Martin.” Jon said breathlessly. “Sorry. Did I wake you?” Martin shook his head no. 

“I was hoping I’d have some breakfast by the time you were up. But I’m sorry to say there’s not much here.” 

“I’m guessing a grocery run is the first to do.” Martin chuckled. Jon smiled slightly. 

“It looks that way.” 

“I’ll go get some clothes on.” 

oooOOOooo

Jon and Martin had what Jon could only describe as an almost perfect day. They’d walked into town; taking their time, stopping to look at the wildflowers and the rolling hills. It was a chilly morning but Jon had never felt warmer in his life. 

The town was as picturesque as could be. Their hunger forgotten, Jon and Martin explored the town. They spent several hours lost in an old bookstore. Jon bought several novels in excellent condition. They walked past an antique store, poking in only long enough to admire a very large and expensive oil painting of dogs. Martin managed to drag Jon into a sickly sweet smelling knitting store to pick up some supplies. Finally, they picked up some groceries and left. By the time they got back to the cottage it was well past midday. They made a large meal and ate it in content silence. 

After the food had been eaten, Martin made them each a cup of tea and the two settled into the living room. Jon on the couch with one of his new books and after only minimal hesitation Martin sat next to him, his knitting in hand. Jon found it hard to focus on his book with Martin’s face in perfect view. Martin was smiling. 

Jon hadn’t seen Martin look so happy in years. And not just in that moment, the whole day Martin had a glow to him. His smile had been softer, his laughter easier. Jon wasn’t a fool. He knew there was much more healing they both needed to do. But Jon was almost giddy with relief that Martin was still so Martin. 

Jon smiled to himself. It didn’t matter if Martin didn’t love him anymore. It was enough that he allowed Jon around. And Jon wasn’t going to waste that gift. He made a silent promise that for as long as he lived, he’d protect Martin’s smile, Martin’s laugh. Those feelings had been there once. Perhaps some day they’d come back. But even if they never did, if Jon spent his whole life loving Marin from afar, that would be enough. Martin was enough. Just as he was. 

As afternoon turned to night, Martin lit the fireplace. Jon wrapped himself in one of Daisy’s overly soft blankets. He handed one to Martin who took it gratefully. Martin leaned up against Jon’s legs and the warm fuzzy feeling from the morning filled Jon’s chest again. 

Martin sighed in content. 

Jon felt his eyes getting heavier. He was so comfortable. 

oooOOOooo

Jon didn’t know where he was. It was all grey and smoke and chills. He knew he’d been there before. But the memory floated away. Jon started walking, in no particular direction. 

“Martin!” Jon called. There was no response. “Daisy? Basira! Melanie? Georgie?  _ Anyone _ ?”

Still nothing. Jon felt the panic growing. 

“ _ Martin _ !” Jon called again. “Tim! Sasha! Please! Don’t leave me here alone!” He couldn’t be alone again. 

Jon’s foot connected with something solid. Jon looked down. Tim’s vacant face stared up at him. 

“No no no no no no no no.” muttered Jon as he dropped to his knees. Tim looked just as Jon remembered seeing him last; hair long and unkempt, in a wrinkled grey shirt. His face was peaceful, even as his milky eyes starred up unseeing. He reached out, to close Tim’s eyes, he owed him that much, when he realized Tim was clutching a hand in his. Jon recognized the pink nail polish. Jon followed the hand. 

Sasha. The real Sasha lay next to Tim. Jon didn’t know he could have ever forgotten her face. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing. 

Jon choked out a sob, half from grief and half of joy. He thought he’d never see her face again. 

Jon raised his head and saw the ground was now littered in bodies. Daisy and Basira were next to each other. Past them were Georgie and Melanie. Jon thought he saw Helen and Gertrude around as well. Jurgen Leitner was some distance away next to his grandma. 

Still, he couldn’t find… 

“Hello Archivist.” Jon whipped his head around. 

Elias appeared out of the fog. At his feet lay Martin. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. 

“Martin!” Jon screamed. 

“Ah ah ah.” tutted Elias. He took a step forward, placing his foot over Martin’s throat. There was a terrible crunching sound. 

“Get away from him!” shouted Jon. He tried to run to Martin but Jon’s legs seemed to have vanished. Jon crashed to the ground, unable to walk.

“And what are you going to do, Archivist?  _ Save him _ ? You haven’t been able to save any of them.”

“Please. Not Martin.” Jon whispered. He tried to crawl towards them. 

“It’s your fault. You know that right? If it wasn’t for you, they’d all be alive right now if it wasn’t for you.” Jon nodded his head. He knew. If it wasn’t for him, they all might be alive and happy. It was all Jon’s fault. It had always been Jon’s fault. 

“I-I know.” Jon choked out. “But  _ please _ , Elias. Don’t hurt him. Kill me instead. Just let him go.”

Elias let out a hollow laugh. 

“So desperate, Archivist. So willing to throw yourself to the wolves to protect others. But look where that’s gotten you. All your other assistants are dead. Why should he be any different.” 

“You can’t take him from me too.” begged Jon. 

Elias glared down at Martin with disdain. 

“I have to admit. Out of all the assistants, I hated him the least.” Elias brought his foot down again. 

“No!” screamed Jon.

Suddenly, everyone was gone. Elias, Tim, Sasha. They all disappeared into smoke. The only one left was Martin, still laying some distance away. Jon’s legs seemed to have returned to him. Jon stumbled over to Martin and collapsed next to him. He pulled Martin, limp, into his arms. Jon’s hands were shaking so badly it was hard to hold Martin. But Jon clung for dear life. 

“Martin? Wake up.” Jon brushed Martin’s hair out of his face. Martin’s face was peaceful. His mouth was parted slightly, almost in surprise but his eyes were open. He starred up, past Jon, unseeing. The usual gleaming twinkle gone. 

Dead. Jon wasn’t sure how he knew but he knew. 

Dead.

“No…” Jon cried. Jon dragged Martin to his chest and sobbed. 

“Please.” Jon whispered into Martin’s hair. “Please don’t leave me.” Martin didn’t respond. He just laid there, still and cold. Whatever warmth Martin had given Jon in life had gone. 

“I can’t do this without you. I  _ need _ you Martin. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Martin…” Jon trailed off as he devolved into more tears. He cradled Martin closer, begging, pleading with whoever could hear him. 

But nobody answered. Martin was dead in his arms. Dead and gone. Because of Jon. Always because of Jon. 

Jon wasn’t sure how long he sat there, cradling Martin’s broken body in his arms. Time seemed to mean nothing now that Martin was gone....

“Jon! Jon!” 

Jon’s head whipped up. A voice had called out to him. Jon couldn’t seem to pinpoint where it was coming from. It seemed to be all around him. 

“ _ Jon _ !” It said again. Jon recognized that voice. He’d recognize it anywhere. 

Martin. Martin was calling his name. 

But that couldn’t be right. Jon looked down; Martin was still dead in his arms. It couldn’t be Martin’s voice. Jon would never hear Martin’s voice again. The thought sent Jon into another wave of tears. He wrapped himself up tighter around Martin and rocked back and forth.

“Jon,  _ please _ .” Martin’s voice sounded desperate. Jon looked down at Martin in his arms. But as he did, Martin disappeared; turning into a thick fog that floated away through his fingers. 

“No no no no no no no no no.” Jon was frantic, grabbing desperately at the fog. “Martin. Don’t go! Martin!” 

“Jon wake UP!” Martin’s voice screamed. 

Jon’s eyes snapped open. He was lying on the couch in the living room. The fire had gone out, sending the room into darkness. But Jon could see Martin, a very much alive Martin, trembling with tears in his eyes sitting in front of him. He was shaking Jon by the shoulders forcefully, but stopped the minute Jon opened his eyes. 

“M-Martin?” Jon asked. Martin hung his head in relief. 

“Thank fuck.” 

“Martin?” Jon asked again. Jon could feel tears rolling down his face. 

“Whoa! Hey Jon!” Martin’s grip on Jon’s shoulder tightened. 

“You’re okay?” Jon reached out tentatively; afraid the moment he touched Martin he’d disappear again. But Jon cupped Martin’s face in his hands and although Martin’s face was tight with fear, he didn’t disappear. 

Martin gave a thin smile. 

“I’m okay. You were having a nightmare.” 

“You- you were dead… Elias… You were in my arms and I… I couldn’t…  _ help _ … I couldn’t... ” Jon knew he was babbling. He could feel the hot tears rolling down his face. Martin made a sound somewhere between a hush and a tisk. He pulled Jon in close, tucking him under his chin, so Jon’s face was pressed up against his chest. 

“Just breath Jon. Alright? In and out with me. You’re safe.  _ I’m  _ safe. I’m not dead. You’ve got me.” Jon wrapped his arms around Martin. Jon shook as he gripped Martin’s jumper tightly. Jon closed his eyes. He could hear Martin’s heartbeat in his ear. A bit fast, but most assuredly alive. 

Minutes dragged until finally Jon’s breath evened out. Reluctantly, Jon let go of Martin. Martin gave him a pained smile and brushed tears off his cheeks. 

“It’s late.” Martin said. “Let's get you to bed.” Jon nodded numbly as Martin took his hand and gilded them both upstairs. 

Once again they stopped at the landing. But this time, Jon couldn’t bear to let go of Martin’s hand. Martin glanced up at him sheepishly. 

“Jon. Are-are we just being stupid?” Martin asked. Jon chuckled slightly. “The chances one or both of us have another nightmare is pretty high I’d say.”

“You’re probably right.” hummed Jon. 

Martin gripped Jon’s hand a bit stronger. 

“S-so…” Martin’s face flushed. “Why don’t we just um…” Martin starred up at Jon. He looked slightly desperate. “Why don’t we just sleep in the same room? Save ourselves the trouble later.” Jon could feel the blush creeping up on his face. 

“Oh.. well yes… That sounds good. Honestly, I don’t think I could face sleeping alone right now.” Martin seemed to visibly relax and he pulled Jon into his room. Jon was just about to suggest he take the floor when Martin gilded Jon to the bed. Too exhausted and scared to argue. Jon slipped under the covers. Martin followed close behind. 

“Is it alright if I?” Martin mumbled. Jon nodded. Martin slipped his arm under Jon and pulled him in close. Jon’s head fit under Martin’s chin. Whatever residual panic was left from the nightmare faded instantly. Jon found himself once again warm and happy. 

“Thank you. For being here.” Jon hummed. 

“Of course. Jon, I… I’m glad I can help.” Martin gave Jon an affectionate squeeze. “Now just try and get some rest.” 

Jon nodded. Jon curled one around Martin and smiled fondly, letting himself slowly drift back into sleep. 

“I love you.” Jon mumbled into his pillow. Jon froze. Had he said that out loud? He’d been thinking that, and it had just slipped out. 

Martin’s head shot up. He stared at Jon as if he’d never truly seen him before. His face was an unreadable mix of emotions. Martin opened and then closed his mouth. He seemed completely frozen.

“What did you say?” Martin asked. He let go of Jon and sat up. Jon made a small sound of protest. 

“ _ What did you say _ ?” Martin asked again, a little more forcefully. Jon couldn’t think. His face was a beat red and he was finding it hard to make any sound at all. Briefly he thought of playing dumb. Of pretending he said something different. But then he looked at Martin’s face. It was twisted with hurt and he knew he couldn’t lie to him. 

“ _ Jon. _ ”

Jon made a grimace..

“I said, I love you.” Jon whispered. Martin let out a mournful cry and buried his head in his hands. Jon watched Martin’s small frame heave as he sobbed. Jon’s face went pale. His hands began to shake. He hadn’t expected that. He’d imagined what would happen a million times before; Martin rejecting him, slapping him, running away. But tears, Jon hadn’t thought of that as a possible reaction. 

“M-Martin!” Jon shouted, alarmed. He reached out to put a comforting hand on Martin’s shoulder but he stopped just inches away. 

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said anything… I didn’t... mean to upset you. It just slipped out… But it doesn’t matter. That was selfish of me.” 

“Yes it was!” shouted Martin from between his fingers. “You can’t just say things like that! This is already hard enough as it is!”

“Yes of course.” Jon felt as if his whole world was shattering with each tear from Martin. “This isn’t the time or- …completely inappropriate… I understand. I’ll just- I just…” 

“You can’t say things you don’t mean!” shouted Martin.

“I- What?” said Jon, shocked. Martin scooted farther away from him, pressing against the wall and curling into a small tight ball. Martin cried harder, if that was possible. Big sloppy tears dripped down his hands onto the bed’s blanket. 

  
“I p-promise I won’t leave Jon. I won’t l-leave you. But you  _ can’t  _ lie to me. It’s not f-fair. I c-can’t take that…” 

“Wait, you think I’m… Martin! I’m not lying.” Jon tried to say. But his words were drowned out by Martin’s feverish sobs. 

“I don’t  _ care _ that you don’t love me. I’ve accepted that a long time ago. I’m okay with it. R-really I am. So you don’t have to say it just to keep m-me here.” 

“Martin I’m  _ not _ lying.” Jon said, louder. Jon took a deep breath. He scooted closer and gently put his hands on Martin’s shoulders. Jon tried to ignore the way Martin flinched as he touched him.

“Martin. I’ve known I’ve loved you for some time.”

Martin peaked out from behind his hands. Jon sighed and continued. 

“I’m not lying or trying to deceive you for some ulterior motive. I promise you I’m not. I just love you.” Jon murmured. Martin stared at him, transfixed. 

“You have? You do? You’re not just saying that?” Martin croaked, his voice hoarse from tears.

Jon shook his head.

“I’ve known since I woke up in that hospital bed and you weren’t there.” 

Martin’s face broke again and he devolved into more sobs. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there Jon- I.” 

“No, no. Shhh.” hushed Jon. Awkwardly, Jon pulled Martin closer to him, in a sort of retrained hug. It had been so much easier when it had been Martin hugging Jon. Martin was better than him at all the feelings stuff. 

“It wasn’t like I expected you to be there or anything…” Jon continued. “ I just... When I woke up and you weren’t there all I wanted in the world was to see your face. And then that it’s all I could think about. I’d close my eyes and I’d see you at your desk, reading one of your books, or bringing me tea, or just existing. And I missed you more than I thought I could miss a person.” Jon hugged Martin tighter. 

“I knew I’d missed you before. When I’d gone on those long trips to America and China. And before that. Sometimes I’d miss you just over the weekend. Maybe I’ve loved you since then. I’m not sure. I’m not… good at sorting through my own emotions. But then I saw you after I woke up and I just sort of knew. I saw you standing there in that godforsaken Archives and I just knew.” Jon felt Martin grip the front of his pajamas tightly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Martin whispered. Jon chuckled darkly.

“You wanted nothing to do with me. I tried so hard to respect that, to trust that you knew what you were doing, even if I didn’t fit anymore. And I thought it was better that way. I was…  _ am  _ a monster.”

“You’re not.” mumbled Martin.   
  


“You deserve someone who's human. Someone who isn't cruel or selfish. Someone who doesn't take bloody years to realize their feelings for you. God I’m so stupid. Martin I’m so sorry.” Jon could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He shook them away briskly. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything. You shouldn’t have to know this.” Panic flooded through Jon quite suddenly. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. He was doing it again. Being selfish and weak. Martin didn’t need this. Martin was having a hard enough time without Jon mucking it all up. Jon leapt off the bed, dislodging Martin with a yelp. Jon backed away slowly, edging closer to the door. Martin stared at him with dumbfounded eyes, perfect beautiful dumbfounded eyes.

“Jon what are you-”

“I should just go.” Jon cut him off, his hand feeling blindly behind himself for the doorknob. 

“I know you don’t love me and that’s alright Martin. Truly it is. It’s my fault for putting you in this position. God, I can’t even be just a good  _ friend  _ to you, can I?”

“Jon, what are you on about?” Martin stammered. Martin threw himself off the bed and made towards Jon. Jon flinched at Martin’s hurried movements. 

“Why would you think that I-” Martin stopped. His gaze became unfocused as he was momentarily lost in thought. 

“In The Lonely.” Martin said under his breath. “I said… I-I said  _ loved _ , didn’t I.”

“Yes and I completely understand. Feelings change. No one’s fault that they do. I should have been faster. Realized sooner.“ Jon’s hand found the doorknob and he pushed the door open.

“You loved me once and that was more than generous of you.” He was so close to escaping. 

“Wait!” Martin begged. Jon froze; no matter how much he wanted to leave, he could never say no to Martin. Martin crossed the room in three long strides and threw himself at Jon, wrapping Jon in a tight hug. 

“Martin?!” Jon squeaked, surprised. 

“I never  _ stopped  _ loving you, you fool.” Martin shouted. 

“What?” Jon gasped. Martin hugged him tighter. 

“ _ Loved. _ That was just The Lonely talking. Jon I have tried to stop loving you but I’ve never been able to manage it.”

“Wait… that mean… you love me?” Jon asked, incredulously. Martin nodded against his chest. 

“You’re sure?” Jon asked. Martin nodded again. 

“You're positive.” 

“ _ Yes. _ Jon. I have loved you for so long. Are you sure you love me?” 

Jon nodded vigorously. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I love you Martin.” Martin finally pulled away from Jon and looked up at him. He was beaming; his face so hopeful, so happy. It was so bright it nearly blinded him. Jon smiled deeply back. He wrapped his arms around Martin and pulled him in close. Martin smiled harder as he inched closer. Martin closed his eyes and Jon felt Martin’s lips connect with his. 

It wasn't a long or passionate kiss. There would be time for that later; when they weren’t mentally and physically exhausted. For now, it was tentative, sweet, and absolutely perfect. When they finally broke away. Marin kept his eyes closed for the briefest of seconds, as if Jon’s kiss had momentarily transfixed him. Finally he opened them and his eyes were shined so brightly.

“Wow.” Martin breathed. Jon could only laugh. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about in the morning? Don’t we?” Martin said. 

“I think so.” 

“But for right now. Can-can we just go to bed?” Martin asked. 

“Of course.” 

The two tumbled back into bed, exhausted. 

Jon drew Martin close and Martin laid his head on Jon’s chest. Jon pressed a kiss into Martin’s hair. Martin gave a small content sigh. Jon smiled. Martin, warm, bright, lovely Martin was sleeping on him. With Martin as his nightlight, he was sure no nightmare would wake him again. 


End file.
